Survive
by SonoftheSouth9194
Summary: Butch is not himself lately. Will Boomer be able to get through to him? Reds, Blues, Greens and suicidal attempts and actions.
1. Something's Not Right

"Butch, are you alright? You don't look so good."

"Yeah, and you aren't acting like yourself."

Butch stared blankly at his brothers. It was true he wasn't acting like himself. He was normally hyper, joking, loving life. Lately, however, his disposition had decreased.

"I'm fine. I'm just feelin' kinda sick." Butch sighed as he hosited himself up on the kitchen counter.

"Well, get some rest, then. Mom's birthday party is next week, and we need you at your best."

_Mom, huh?_ He thought. _She may be your mom, but she ain't mine._

"Whatever." Butch said emotionlessly. He grabbed a newly baked brownie off a platter on the counter next to him. In fact, that was the reason the three brothers were in the kitchen to begin with.

"Don't eat them all, I'm still experimenting," Boomer warned. Butch just sat the untouched brownie back on its spot on the platter. Boomer noticed something in his brother's eyes that Brick apparently didn't.

"On second thought, have all you want. Just make sure to tell me how they taste." Boomer said light-heartedly. Butch just gave an unfeeling nod. Boomer's face sunk. _What is wrong with him?_

"Come on, Boom. We gotta start planning Mom's suprise." Brick said, heading out of the half kitchen door into the living room. Boomer lingered in the doorway, watching Butch's eyes on him. After a teeming silence, Boomer went over to Butch's spot on the counter and took a brownie off the plate. He forced it into Butch's hand.

"Just try one?" Boomer gave a knowing look. "Maybe you'll feel better after some sugar in your system."

_It's the end of sugar rushes as you two know it, _Butch thought.

"Just go, Brick needs you." Boomer was a little hurt at this, but understood his brother didn't want any company at the moment. He just gave one more pleading look for Butch to eat the brownie, and then slowly walked out. Butch stared at the little brown mass and reluctantly took a bite. It was so sweet that it enticed his taste buds and locked his desire for more. He enjoyed the rest of it, but as soon as the taste had left his mouth, the sugar dwindled and he resorted back to his previous state. He decided to entertain himself with thinking, something he rarely did before.

_Yeah, go in there and make your little party for the schoolteacher. Call her mom. She's not my mom. I don't have any parents. We were abandoned together by the two jerks that made us. We promised we'd always stay together. Then that crap-faced Brick had to go suggest we'd try the kindergarten. They jump on the first chance they get to get adopted by the teacher. And now we're living with Ms. Keane, oh wait, I mean, "Mom". _

He jumped down angrily. He took another brownie and paced around the kitchen, reliving his past in his mind.

_Like it was our fault we wanted to drop out of the huge Good vs. Evil thing. The villians made us all look stupid. _He took a bite. _So we wanna go neutral. So what do they do? Throw us out like their crap that won't flush down the toliet. _He took another bite. _Now here we are, all of us sixteen and still no parents. Well, at least me. I can't believe them. I thought we were a team. _He gulped down the rest. He had never figured out how Boomer became such a good cook, but it was working for him at the moment. He grabbed another one and walked to the half-door. He leaned on the corner of the edge, watching his brothers on the couch, working out details. He felt betrayed. Ever since the day they were resurrected, Butch had always felt a deeper bond with Boomer than Brick. Apparently, the bond was mutual. All their lives up to this point, Boomer and Butch had always been the twosome of the threesome. When they had decided to join the Girls and become superheros, it was Boomer who convinced Butch to go along with it. If it hadn't have been for Boomer, Butch wouldn't even have agreed to live with Ms. Keane. Now it seemed like Boomer was drifting away from him. That and the issue of their mother was only two of Butch's problems, however. He hated to reveal the biggest one even to himself, much less the blonde. He lifted the brownie up to his lips, but when the baked batter reached his mouth, he angrily snapped around and threw it full force into the trash can. The can rattled and spun in circles, eventually hitting the floor from the force of the throw. Butch watched in contempt contentment as the trash spilled out. Suddenly, a voice from behind him stopped him cold.

"Butch, what was that? Are you alright?" It was Brick's. Butch sped off in a dark green streak out the window. He panted with excitement. He bore his teeth in a demented grin as he watched his brothers come into the now-empty kitchen and discovered the knocked over trash can. He snickered to himself, finding enjoyment out of narrowly escaping what was to him a major scene. His snicker turned into the chuckle of the insane. He was side-splitting happy about the fact that he had knocked over the trash can and had fled without being seen. He didn't realize the absurdity of it. The raven-haired maniac flew up into the night sky, letting the cool air relax him and turn his spiky hair every which way. Soon his strange laughter dwindled into small happy mumbles, and finally the clear air sobered his hyperness.

_I used to do that all the time? Be crazy? What's wrong with me?_

He looked down below him in the suburbs. Across the street he saw the Girls' and the Professor's house. He suddenly had an urge to go see his girlfriend, Buttercup. Soon his heart screamed at him to go to either her or Boomer. He longed to be with someone close to him, no matter how strange he was. He just fought the desire. His mind go so desprate that it would tolerate being around Blossom, Brick's girlfriend, with whom Butch shared a mutual hate. His pride crushed the longing, and he went nearer to his house. When Ms. Keane had adopted them, she moved them across the street from the Girls. He was about to enter the house through the window to the room which he shared with his brothers when he stopped. _The Professor! Maybe he can make me normal. He figured out what's wrong with me, didn't he?_ He shook his head. _Like he'd want to see me. I'm stupid for even wanting to go over there. No one wants me over there, and apparently not over at my house either. Where do I go? _He floated down to the kitchen window, his previous escape route, to see what had become of the scene. The trash was neatly picked up and the rest of the room was empty. The plate of brownies was gone, however. He floated further up away from the window to the one that led to the bedroom. He was surprised to see the brownie platter on his bunk bed. Brick got his own on one side, while Boomer took the bottom to the other and Butch slept on top. He climbed in the window, finding his teenage body more difficult to fit in then when he had been a kid. When his shoes hit the carpet, he started to his bed. He kicked off said sneakers and floated to the top. Boomer must have left these here for him. When he picked the platter up and sat it on his lap, a small note hidden underneath it revealed itself. He held it, recognizing the handwriting as Boomer's.

_Even tho I know you're not sick, I hope you feel better. _

Butch gave a smile and fingered a brownie. He sat it back down and placed the platter on Boomer's bed. He grabbed a piece from a notepad and wrote a reply.

_Thanks. And these need more sugar. _

He drew a winking face on the note and slid it under the brownie platter. In spite of Boomer's attempt to raise his spirits, Butch soon plunged back into his now-normal mood. He walked down the second floor's hall, hands in his pockets. He looked down at his socked feet as they pulled him foward. In his view he saw another pair of socked feet and he looked up to see the blonde.


	2. Continuing to Hurt

The two raised heads and met each other's gaze.

"Hey," Boomer calmly smiled.

"Sup." Butch said, deviod of emotion. Boomer's smile faded.

"Can we talk?"

"I guess."

A minute later, the two brothers were sitting on the couch. Boomer looked at Butch nervously, who was sitting hunched over and looking as if he'd rather not be there. So much he wished he could say to him.

"Shouldn't you be helping Brick?" Butch said lowly, his deep voice barely audible. He didn't even look up.

"He went out to set up some things around town for the party..." Boomer said quietly. "I was bored, so I wanted to come find you. After we cleaned up your little mess, he went off, so..." Butch just mumbled something to himself.

"You coulda went with him, ya know." Butch said coldly.

"Well, what if I wanted to stay here?" Boomer said, faking offense. Butch just sighed.

"I've got better things to do. See ya." Butch stood up and hovered above the ground. As he readied himself to take off, Boomer grabbed his shirt.

"Come on, Butch. Don't do this. I didn't go because I thought you'd be lonely!"

"Oh, suddenly I'm a little baby that needs to have someone with him?"

Boomer groaned. Why did Butch have to fight help?

"Butch, I didn't mean it like that, I just..." The blonde trailed off dejectedly. Butch sighed and sat by him.

"Listen, I know you think there's something wrong with me, but there isn't. I'm perfectly fine."

Boomer didn't buy it, but played along. "Well, alright."

---

This was it. The final level, the final battle. He had gotten this far, he needed to finish it. His black, floppy spikes hung in his face due to lack of styling. This morning after he reluctantly woke up from playing the rest of the night, he didn't eat nor change before he hopped back into the game. His hair was wild and his clothes reduced to a tank top and shorts. He held the Wii remote parallel to his arm, carefully readying his stance for the last fight. As soon as he was about to swing wildly, his redheaded brother stood in front of the TV, his ponytail clean and shiny, opposite of Butch's hair. The remote connection to the console was broken by Brick's superhuman interference.

"WHAT are you doing?"

"About to beat this game, if you get the heck out of my way."

"Butch, you've been playing this game hours on end. You need a break!"

"NO I DON'T! DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO, RED!" Butch screamed, flicking his wrist. The remote's wrist strap gave way, and the remote itself flung into Brick's eye. He cried out in pain, and Butch winced. When they were ressurected, each one of them had a genetic defect. Something in Boomer's brain would not let him tell a secret he promised to keep unless enduring extreme pain. Butch had rare but dangerous seizures. Brick was not able to completely close his eyes, so naturally they were sensitive. The Wii remote chucked into his left one certainly didn't help. Butch frantically apologized and rushed over to him. Brick pushed him away, his eyes watering.

"Just get away from me!" He cried, and he left the room in a dark red flash. Butch sighed and crumpled to the floor. He folded his arms above his neck on the entertainment center shelf. _Why do I have to injure everyone? Why didn't he stay here, so I coulda helped him? Naw, he would never want anyone to see him cry. Why did I have do to that? Why couldn't I have held on to the dang remote? _

_---_

Brick stumbled into the kitchen, both fingerless hands covering his left eye. Ms. Keane ran to her son and asked him what had happened. As Brick explained, Boomer hovered down the stairs right into one of the kitchen's doorways. He watched silently, careful not to make his presence known.

"What happened, Brick!?"

"Butch threw that freaking Wii remote right into my eye! He KNOWS how bad my eyes are!"

"I'm pretty sure he didn't do it on purpose, Bri- "

"Mom, he was ticked at me for trying to get him off of that stupid game he played all last night and now all this morning!"

"But Butch wouldn't... oh, never mind about that. I'll get you some ice."

"I can get the ice -"

"You just sit down. I don't want you injuring your other eye." Defeated, the readhead hopped up on the counter, his one-eyed vision blurry and bleary. She went to freezer and prepared his ice pack. Boomer emerged from the shadows and went straight from the living room, unseen by his nearly-blind brother and his ice-wrapping mother.

---

"You didn't do it on purpose, did you?" A calm, sympathetic voice came out of no where. Butch leaned back from his hunched over position when he heard the not-so deep voice of his other brother. His emerald eyes were watery from his guilt session.

"Of course not. It was an accident! I would never..." Butch trailed off. His black eyebrows knitted to his eyes. "Why are you here, anyway? Wanna see how I can hurt you too?"

"No... I just wanted to see if you were alright. Brick's in there complaining to Mom that you did it on purpose. I knew you would never try and hurt him." Butch stayed silent. He soon hated himself for shooting off at his brother before that. The blonde just knelt by him, putting his arm around Butch's shoulders. Butch just shrugged him off.

"I'm fine, Boom." Butch stood up and turned around to their room.

"Liar." Boomer folded his arms.

"I SAID I'M FINE! LEAVE ME ALONE AND GET OUT OF MY FACE, YOU LITTLE BLONDE RAT! I'M SICK OF YOU GETTING IN MY LIFE AND TRYING TO MAKE ME FEEL BETTER WHEN YOU'RE ONLY TICKING ME OFF MORE! WHY DON'T YOU GO BACK TO YOUR LITTLE CRAP OF A LIFE!" Butch blew up. He shoved Boomer down in the floor in a rage. Boomer stared at him blankly, his sapphire eyes lined with small tears. Butch's eyes grew wide as he realized what he had done. "Boomer, no, I didn't mean... I didn't... I'm sorry... I didn't..." Butch stuttered. Boomer stood up eye level to Butch.

"Excuse me for caring about my brother," He said coldy. He put both of his hands on Butch's chest and gave a powerful shove, sending Butch into the wall. The blonde then took off in a trail of dark blue, desprate to keep himself from crying. Butch just sat on the floor against the wall where he had landed. His mind's eye was burned with the image of Boomer with the watery eyes that had snapped him out of his rage. All Boomer was trying to do was help him, and he had repayed his unconditional brotherly love by hurting him, both physically and emotionally.


	3. Reconcilliation?

Boomer's heart was torn two ways. One half of him wanted to blame Butch for being so mean to him. The other half was the remnants of his loving side, telling him that this wasn't Butch's fault. In his right mind he knew his loving side was right; Butch wasn't mentally healthy now. Something in his brain was controlling him, making him unable to be his normal self. Boomer sat up on his bed, arms wrapped around his knees. Oh, how he wanted to go back in there and defend himself. However, he knew that wouldn't fix anything. Suddenly, he heard something coming into the room. His heart jumped as the figure pulled him out of his warring soul. It was Brick. The redhead floated into the room without even looking at Boomer. He sat down on his bottom bunk. His ice pack was gone, and his eye was back to normal except the eyeball itself was a little bloodshot and his eyelid was darker. Boomer guessed it to the Chemical X's healing time.

"Are you alright?" The blonde said. His voice made Brick jump, apparently he was thinking too.

"I've been better, but he didn't do any real damage to my eye. I bet he's not too happy with that result," Brick spat. Boomer's eyebrows closed in on his sapphire eyes.

"How can you say that? You know it was an accident. Why would Butch hurt you on purpose?"

"Boomer, this is a big kid's situation. Just let us handle it, alright?" Boomer was not pleased with that response.

"I'm just as old as you!"

"But you are the youngest, remember?"

Boomer's thoughts flashed back to they day they were resurrected. He opened his eyes for the first time, and he saw HIM, Brick, and Butch. He heard HIM lament about how long it had taken to bring Boomer back to life after his brothers. Boomer then snapped back to the current.

"So? We were born on the same day, and we're the same age. I'm not a little kid just because I was a few hours late."

Brick sighed heavily. "I hate being the oldest sometimes."

"YOU'RE NOT THE OLDEST!" Boomer screamed, sick of the age fight. Brick blinked at him, shocked and stunned. Boomer just folded his arms.

"Boomer, I was the first to come back, then Butch, and then you. That makes me the oldest. It doesn't matter if we are the same age, we still take on the characteristics of our birth order. It's been proven."

"Yeah, you're just reading Mom's _Woman's Day_ magazines in the bathroom again." Boomer shot back. He just wanted Brick to stop going on about this.

"I am not! You little liar!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"SHUT UP!" A third, deep voice boomed from the doorway. There stood Butch, who had apparently been watching the scene. He closed the door and stepped in a little. Brick, as if on instinct, jumped up from his bed and got right in Butch's face.

"What did I do for you to throw that remote in my eye?"

"It was an accident, you moron. Why the heck would I purposely throw a perfectly good remote into your eye?"

"You were mad because I was trying to get you to stop. It was for your own health! It's not good to-"

"When did I ever care about my health? It was just a stupid game. I don't even care anymore. And you need to stop hanging around your girlfriend so much. You're starting to act like her." Boomer watched in horror as Butch put both of his hands on Brick's chest and pushed him down into the ground, like he himself had done to Butch. Brick stood up, brushed it off, and then threw a punch in his brother's face. Butch flew back into the closed door, knocking it down. Boomer feared another fist fight, but he saw something change in Butch's eyes. It looked as if he had given up.

"Come on, you little maniac! Fight me!" Brick jeered. Butch just gently hosited his upper body and rested on his elbows. His emerald eyes were locked on Brick, and the expression readable as "what's the use?" appeared on his face. Brick just sneered.

"What's wrong with you?"

"I don't want to fight," Butch mumbled. Brick's jaw dropped. He shook his head, his long ponytail shaking furiously. Then he flew out of the door, pulling his body into a vertical position so he wouldn't hit Butch. Boomer finally moved from the shape he had locked his body into. His feet hit the floor, and he walked over to Butch. He offered a hand and helped Butch up. The spiky-haired mess of a boy looked up into Boomer's eyes.

"I'm sorry, Boom. I didn't mean to -"

"It's okay, Butch." Boomer hugged Butch tightly. Butch's arms were pinned down to his sides, so he couldn't return it. He was sort of glad this was so. He was uncomfotable, and he imagined Brick coming back in and laughing at him. At the same time, however, he felt like finally someone was on his side. Boomer released him after a minute. Their eyes remained locked.

"Boomer, I treated you like crap. You have every right to leave me and go run in there with Brick."

"Butch, don't say that. I know you didn't mean it. I know you couldn't control it."

"Oh come on! I could control it, don't you get it?! I'm nothing but..." Butch realized his rage was rising again and trailed off. Boomer just gave a knowing look.

"I know more than you think I do. I was there when the Professor checked you out, remember?" Butch just looked away, clearly embarrased about the problem. "Don't be embarrased... it could happen to anyone..." Boomer offered. Butch just shook his head and flew up to his bunk. He stretched out his body on the comforter. Boomer sighed. "If you need me, you know where I am." With that, Boomer left. Butch turned over on his stomach. Normally, he would have killed for the chance to win a fight with Brick, but he just didn't feel like it anymore. He felt emotionless, and he hated it. He was snapped out of his thoughts when Brick flew back into the room, startling him.

"Get off your butt! We have a situation! The Girls are already down there!" Butch looked out the window and saw the Girls attacking one of the biggest monsters he had ever seen.

"You guys don't need me." Rather than argue, Brick sighed.

"I'm sorry, Butch. I overexaggerated. I forgive you, I know it was an accident. Now will you come help us out?"

"I don't need your forgiveness."

"Butch, come on! You're the best fighter we've got!"

"You guys don't need me, I already said." Brick just groaned and left, screaming something to Boomer. Butch looked out the window. He longed to be out there, to be fighting with them. Then again, he felt too empty to move. He watched a tiny streak of lime green fly around in a furry, and the first smile of the day crossed his lips. He was overcome with a longing to be near someone. Not just anyone. The furious lime stripe.


	4. Angst

They sat on his bunk, facing each other. He took her hands and gazed at them. To say she was confused would be an understatement.

When the Girls, Brick, and Boomer had came back from the battle, they all met in the living room of the Boys' house. Now with Brick and Boomer busy with party plans and Ms Keane, Blossom, and Bubbles unaccounted for, Butch and Buttercup had slipped back upstairs. Butch said he wanted to talk. Buttercup was still confused.

He put his forehead to hers, his reddish tan eyelids closed over his emerald eyes. His raven eyebrows opressed his eyes in such a way that it was obvious he was upset about something. Not angry, not in a scowl. Troubled.

"Is there something wrong?" She asked awkwardly.

He didn't respond, but opened his eyes halfway and rested them on her. After a moment, his gravelly voice barely audible, he broke the silence.

"What would you do if something happened to me?"

"Cry like heck. Then probably kill something. Why?" He closed his eyes again.

"What if I had done it?"

"Huh?"

"What if I did something to make something happen to me?" She cocked her head, still clearly confused. Older teenager or not, his grammar wasn't the best. When she figured out what he meant, her eyebrows closed in.

"I would slap you for thinking like that! What's wrong with you?! What happened to my little crackhead?!" Butch's eyebrows turned vertical on his eyes.

"So you wouldn't even care?"

"I didn't say that. Why, what's going on with you? Why are you talking like this?"

"I don't know. Just forget it."

"No, there's something going on. Come on, Butch. I love you and you love me, right? If you can't tell me, you're screwed." Butch seemed to ponder this.

"BC, do you think it's weird for someone to want..."

"Want what?" Butch didn't finish. He leaned in closed to her face and kissed her passionately. She didn't respond except for a mixed expression: A third loving, a third concerned, a third sympathetic. His tounge slid across the roof his mouth, making his words liquid.

"Sometimes you're the only thing keeping me alive." He barely said, tenths of a decibel from whispering. He breathing became heavier, and his chest trembled. "Go. Get out of here. You don't need to see me whine like a baby."

"Butch, that's just wro-"

"GO!" He yelled. She wrinkled her face at him, and then left in a flurry. He held his head in his hands. He silently promised himself not to be weak. Even until the end, whenever that may be. He sat there for a minute, his thoughts racing. A small, weak voice interrupted his mind's high-speed path.

"Butch? Are you alright? Buttercup just..." It was Ms Keane. She trailed off when she saw Butch's back heaving, breaths labored.

"Leave me alone."

----

Butch slowly drifted awake. He was still in the room, alone. _I must have dozed off._ He jumped off the bunk, landing on his feet. He noticed the door was still on the floor, hinges shattered by the impact. He shrugged and walked right over it. He went to the railing of the second floor's edge and took in the scene. Boomer and Brick, along with their mother, were standing the living room, talking and laughing about something.

"I'll go see if Butch is up yet." Butch jumped at Brick's words. His strange survival instinct that had taken over when he knocked over the trash can kicked in again, and he started to fret looking for somewhere to hide. Trying to keep quiet, he tried to fly as fast as he could to the nearest window. When he heard Brick's footsteps reaching the top of the stairs, he lept out of the window. He started to panic again as he began a long fall to the ground. _Oh wait, moron, you can fly. _He counteracted gravity and flew back to the outside of the window. He peered in and he saw Brick saying something about Butch's abscence. A voice from downstairs that he barely recognized as Boomer's suggested he was in the bathroom. He saw Brick shrug and go back down the stairs. Butch sighed with relief and collapsed against the side of the house, gently falling against it to the ground. When his feet hit dirt, he noticed two strange black shoes on the ground in front of him. He looked up to a smiling Professor.

----

"So you see, I think I have finally found the breakthrough for a medication that can treat you properly." The Professor sounded excited. Butch just kept his hands in his pockets. "Not only is it strong enough to penetrate your superhuman organic barriers, but it can successfully restore balance to the chemcials in your brain."

"What...?"

"It will make you feel better." Butch didn't answer that. He didn't feel like talking. Suddenly, his eyes caught ahold of a strange sight - strange, orange knives. Their sharp edges were lined with tiny bumps.

"Hey Professor, what are those?" Butch took a hand out and pointed to them.

"My special surgical knives. I plan to submit them to Townsville Regional, should anything happen. I strengthened them to be able to cut through your tough skin, plus they're coated with a compound to keep the skin from healing right back over after the cut. Or at least, that's the theory. If any one of the six of you should require surgery, these should be able to do the job. I haven't tested them yet."

"I could test them."

"Butch, I couldn't ask you to -" The Professor was cut off by Butch grabbing a middle-sized knife. The Professor held out a hand in protest, but Butch ignored him. He lifted up a sleeve of his layered black and green shirt and made a deep slice in his arm. Blood dripped down his skin, and proved the theory of the non-healing compound correct. The Professor was too stunned to react, and it shook him that Butch didn't even blink when he made the cut. Surely it must have have hurt! He quickly snapped out of his stupor and grabbed a roll of a special bandage off of a shelf and proceeded it to wrap it around Butch's sliced forearm. Butch didn't say anything then, either. When he was finished, he returned the roll to its home on the shelf. _He's worse than I assumed._

"Did... that... um... hurt?" The Professor stuttered.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you show any... reaction?"

"I was supposed to?" The black-haired teenager stared at the man.

"I... I guess not," He stumbled.

----

He sat up against the side of his and Boomer's bunk bed. _I'm spending way too much time in here._ He fingered the small bottle he was given. _So this is supposed to fix me, huh? Supposed to make me stop being a depressed freak? I don't need this crap. I'm strong. I can fight this on my own. I don't need this. I don't need it. I don't. _He stood up, opened the window, and threw the bottle as far as it could go. He was filled with remorse. _The Professor went through heck to make me that. Why do I have to be such a jerk? _

_----_

_A few days later..._

_----_

Boomer and Brick flew through the house with excitement. In their fretting, they accidently collided.

"Sorry, dude!" Boomer laughed as he helped Brick up.

"Eh, it's no problem!" He chuckled back.

"By the way, the Girls took Mom out until we can get everything set up for later!_" _Boomer started to laugh uncontrollably - his way of showing he was nervous. Brick just grabbed his brother's arm and pulled him off into the kitchen.

"Come on, you have to make the cake!"

The two flew into the kitchen, unaware of Butch walking into the impact site. Unknown to the laughing brothers, he hid something underneath a black jacket. It was long and orange.


	5. Final Breath?

Everyone had shown up. Old students, new students and their parents, the Girls, the Professor, Boomer, Brick, and even Butch. Butch didn't appear to be very sociable, however. He remained behind the crowd that came to pay his adoptive mother their respects. Old kindergarteners, now grown up into the same age as the Boys, came back to see their old teacher. Robin Snyder, Mike Believe, even Mitch Michelson. New students, the last set that Ms Keane would teach before retiring next year, basked in the sun and played to their full extent of their toddler energy. Their parents chatted and wished the retiring schoolteacher good luck. Even a few of the parents went up to the Boys and congratulated them on their mother's character. Boomer and Brick thanked them obviously, while Butch merely shrugged and left to find a new deserted spot. While Brick and Blossom preferred to stay together by the outside makeshift buffet table, Boomer and Bubbles walked around, holding hands and making conversation with anyone willing. Buttercup kept trying to find Butch, but he was too elusive. She was still messed up over yesterday's incident, but she wanted to assure herself he was alright. To hide the fact she was frantically looking for her boyfriend, anyone who stopped to talk to her she replied. Butch walked to the backyard, hands in his jacket pockets. A familiar yet annoying voice resonated in his ears.

"Hey, it's Butchie Boy!" Butch growled at the nickname and spun around to see Mitch. "Hey there, ol' buddy."

"I'm not your friend, punk."

"Ooh, punk. I'm scared. Listen, rat. Everyone's askin' where the heck you are, and they're all blamin' me because we're not exactly two peas in a pod, ya know what I mean?"

"Yeah, I do. So how about this? You go die somewhere."

"Awww, I'm flattered. But I have to say no. Now get your butt back into the party."

"It's not my party."

"It's your mom's party. You're seriously not that shallow to not even walk around your mom's birthday party?"

"She's not my mom."

"Well, either she's your mom or Brick and Boomer ain't your brothers."

"Oh, I'm sure as heck they're my brothers. Hey, here's an idea, why don't you leave them the heck alone?"

"Screw them. Listen, get your shallow little-"

"Shut up about my brothers, punk! And don't talk about ME being shallow! You frickin' jerk, you're as shallow as a kiddie pool!"

"Oh yeah? How?!"

"Trying to steal Buttercup away from me! Ever since kindergarten! Dude, get a life! Take a hint! She don't freakin' like ya!"

"Whatever, freak." Mitch walked off. Butch cracked his knuckles. He had hated Mitch ever since he started hitting on Buttercup. Even before then, actually. It was quite safe to say they weren't chums. Butch shook his head and reminded himself of his goal. The house should be empty by now.

----

"Boomer, go get the cake!"

"Yeah, Boomie, go get the cake!"

----

Butch knelt on the kitchen floor. This was it. It had to be. He reached inside his jacket and took out one of the Professor's special surgical knives. The one he had stolen when he left the Professor's lab. The one he had sliced his arm with. He laid a piece of notebook paper scribbled with his mediocre handwriting on the kitchen counter. He had to do this right. He put his hands on his thighs and let the knife clatter to the floor. He shook. _Stop being a wimp. You're brave enough for this. You'll be out of this hell forever._ He swallowed hard and grabbed the knife. With shaking hands, he positioned it, point to his chest.

----

Boomer floated nonchalantly into the house, making his way to the kitchen to retrieve the cake. His heart started racing as he neared the door. He didn't know why. Until he saw Butch kneeling on the floor. He burst in and flew to him.

"BUTCH! What are you doing?!"

"Boomer?" Butch looked up at his blonde brother, realizing the awkwardness of him holding a knife to his chest. Boomer was breathing heavily and tears were coming out of his eyes.

"Butch! STOP! What is that?!"

"It's one of the Professor's medical knives. Supposed to be able to cut through our skin and keep it from healing right back over."

"W-Why are y-you..."

"Boomer, forgive me, man. I love ya. Take care of everyone, alright?"

"NO! DON'T!" Boomer dropped to his knees and trembled. "I'LL DO ANYTHING! DON'T!" Butch bit his lip.

"Boomer, there's no other way out... I gotta be strong here..." Butch's voice creaked.

"That's not true! GIVE ME THAT!" Boomer struggled as he tried to pry the knife from Butch's hands, to no avail. Butch shoved him away, and Boomer landed in the wall.

"I'm sorry Boomer," Butch sighed. Boomer's eyes widened in horror as Butch shoved the knife into his chest. "G-God, f-for-forgive m-me," He gasped. He fell over and his eyes closed. Blood started to drip down from the wound. Boomer shook so hard he couldn't stand up. So he screamed.

"HELP! ANYONE! PLEASE HELP! ANYONE!!!" He screamed as hard and loud as he could. Within seconds, Brick, the Professor, and some random guests poked their heads into the kitchen door. The guests shrieked and went to tell the others or else fear of their own gag reflexes, and the Professor gulped and took charge.

"BRICK! Get that knife out of him and follow me!" Brick, without thinking, flew over to his dying brother and gently but quickly took the knife out. Boomer rushed to help support him, although he needed support himself. "GET HIM TO TOWNSVILLE REGIONAL! NOW!" The Professor ran out the door, followed by the trio of brothers.


	6. Hospitals and Notes

Silence is a commodity. It can strengthen tensions, it can soothe the soul.

For now, it was filling the air between seven distraught souls. Ms Keane sat by herself off to the corner of the waiting room. She sobbed so hard that when anyone went to comfort her she shoved them off. The Professor sat across from her on the other side of the room, mumbling angrily. He was upset over the fact that even though he was an expert on the superhuman organic functions of the superpowered six and the creator of three of them, he was not allowed to see or check on Butch. No one was. They didn't even know if he had succeeded in his desire to end his life. A little closer to the middle of the near-empty room, the redheads sat huddled together. Blossom, even though she had prided herself on antagonizing the goofy and reckless version of Butch, was crying uncontrollably. Brick tried to comfort his love, but couldn't keep from crying himself. _Why did I take so long to forgive him for the remote incident? Why couldn't I have seen he was depressed? I could have done something..._

Boomer and Buttercup sat side by side, faces devoid of all emotion. Between the six of them, they were the closest to Butch.

_I could have stopped him. I could have taken the knife if I had tried hard enough. I could have saved his life._

_Why did I let him tell me to leave? I could have stayed with him. I don't care if he was crying or not. We are all way too old to hide our emotions now. We were in this together. We had plans. Why couldn't I have done something?_

Bubbles sat on the other side of Boomer, who was in the middle. She cried gingerly, using every power she had to keep from flooding the waiting room with her tears. She stroked her boyfriend's back, who was hunched over, hands supporting his head with elbows on his thighs. The raven-haired girl beside him shared a similar position. Boomer removed one of his head supports and squeezed Bubbles' free hand with his own. When he got her attention, he nodded ever so gently to Buttercup beside him. Bubbles nodded sadly, and floated over to Buttercup's side. Boomer replaced his arm and lost himself in thought once again. Bubbles wrapped her arms around her sister.

"Cuppie, I..." Bubbles' voice trailed off, unable to finish her thought.

"It's not fair. Why couldn't I have done something?" Buttercup lept to her feet.

"Dear, I think that's what we're all thinking," Ms Keane said a little louder than normal in order to be heard across the room.

"We did all we could," Brick said lowly. Buttercup just narrowed her eyes.

"No we didn't, Brick! We could have saved his life! Now the only guy that ever loved-" She cut herself off when she realized what she was saying. A few pairs of eyes looked up at her, except for the blonde male still lost in his thoughts. Buttercup sighed angrily and wished there was something with enough stamina that she could hit it repeatedly.

"The group here with a Mr. Butch Keane?" A nurse poked her head through a door marked "Personnel Only".

"Yes, that's my son," Ms Keane jumped up without hesitation. Brick watched her eyes. Butch never called her his mom, but she had always called him her son.

"Any other family, miss?"

"Yes, his two brothers." As if on queue, Brick and Boomer stood up.

"Can we come too?" Bubbles asked, wiping tears.

"I'm afraid not. Relatives only."

"What about me? I am the only one among this sad excuse for a hospital that knows how to properly treat one of their kind! I did, in fact, create them!" The Professor took an uncharacteristic offense and stood up furiously.

"Are you the boy's father?"

"Goodness, no!"

"Then no."

----

"I'm afraid he's not looking too good. The wound to the chest is incredibly deep. We'll be lucky if he makes it through tonight." Ms Keane closed her eyes in exasperation at the news.

"Maybe you should let the Professor in... he knows how to handle us," Brick pleaded. The nurse pondered this, then told them to wait. She ran off to converse with a higher authority, apparently. Boomer was still devoid of emotion. He stared off into no particular distance. Brick shook him.

"Brick... stop... I'm awake."

"Boomer, do _something._ You're scaring me." Before Boomer could reply, the nurse came back and told them that the Professor was allowed in.

----

His eyelids were a deep burgundy. His skin was gray and pale. His raven hair, once so carefully spiked, flopped over in any direction it so chose. It haunted the boys and their mother to see him. His chest was wrapped around tightly with a thick bandage. Several special IVs the Professor had already submitted to the medical research lab ran into his veins. The heart and pulse monitors reminded everyone to wait for a flatline. Ms Keane gently stepped to her son's bedside. She sat ever so lightly on the side of the bed and slid her hand underneath Butch's neck. She calmly and barely stroked his forehead.

"I don't care about how many years you spat at me for trying to be your mother. I know I'm not. I wanted to be the best I could for you. I hope that you knew I would never abandon you, no matter what you did. And I certainly will not now." She softly kissed his cheek and cradled him as if he were a little boy again. Boomer couldn't hold it in any longer, and started to sob. He hated himself for allowing this to happen. He was patient with Butch, tried to be loving and understanding. Now he could see that had not helped any. Brick put an arm around Boomer's heaving shoulders and slipped him a piece of paper.

"Blossom picked it up after we left. You should read it."

----

Boomer stood outside the room. He unfolded the notebook paper with trembling hands.

_Dear Everyone,_

_Yeah, it's me, Butch. As ya'll can probably guess now, I'm dead. I have no idea what's supposed to be in one of these things, so here goes:_

_To Blossom: Yeah Red, we had some good times. Sorry ya gotta find someone else to argue with. Nice knowin' ya._

_To Bubbles: I know you're gunna cry. Try not to, okay? I admit we were pretty good friends. You had a mean sonic scream too. Keep nailin' em._

_To Brick: All the times we fought kills me right now. I actually kinda looked up to you once in a while, ya know? Stay out of Ms Keane's Woman's Day magazines in the bathroom, too._

_To Professor: Thanks for tryin' so hard with me. Had no idea you'd even care about me when this whole thing started. I appreciate it._

_To Ms Keane: I'm sorry I rejected you all these years. I knew you were never going to abandon us. I had just barely met you, and I didn't want to get too set into it. I'm sorry, Mom._

_To my babe, Buttercup: My last wish is for you to find someone else. There is some man somewhere that deserves you more than I do. I don't even deserve to know your name, and you still loved me. Know I'll always love you, and if we don't see each other before we see the Big Man Upstairs, PLEASE find someone else. I want you happy, BC._

_And to Boomer: I'm thinkin' back to that time when we were 10 and we ganged up on Brick to see who could fly to every Mickey D's in Townsville. Pretty funny, wasn't it? Why don't you go back to that old one down on the corner of Saykk and Jariupe Street? _

_To everyone: I'm sorry for any damage I caused. But I'm sick of being a depressed freak. It's over now. _

_Still all of yours,_

_Butch_

At first, Boomer was hurt. Everyone had gotten a heartfelt note, and he had gotten a fast food memory. Unless... his mind traced back and he reread his part of the note. Butch wanted him to go there. _But why?_


	7. The Future and a Lost Cause

He gently padded the street's cobblestones with his shoes. He huddled his jacket closer. Normally he wore just a plain tee, jeans, and sandals, but for some reason the night air was colder. It was probably psychological, given his mental state.

_Saykk and Jariupe... Saykk and Jariupe..._

The street names sounded like God's blessings to Boomer. He kept pushing his shaggy blonde hair out of his eyes so he could see the street signs. He let his mind wander.

_I need a haircut... nah. It's not like it's the longest anyway. _

Boomer stopped and thrust his hands in his jacket pockets.

_What if they find out I'm gone? Ah, Brick'll bail me out. He saw the note. _

He looked down and continued on.

---

Buttercup slipped around in the bowels of the Professor's lab. She was all alone in the house, but she was cautious nonetheless. What she was about to do was something so out of her character she hardly revealed it to herself. She felt around in the dark until she felt a familiar metal panel. A panel belonging to the side of the Future Viewer 2000. She only let herself use it every now and again so the special factor wasn't taken out. Given the state of her boyfriend, she felt it was a merit. She found the power button and gave it a tap. The basement became filled with light, and a huge screen was revealed to be its source. A message shone in silver letters on the pixels.

**PLEASE ENTER YEAR.**

She entered the sweetest year she knew, the one she had memorized. The one that was exactly ten years in the future.

**2020.**

The screen came alive with a young man. He had spiky black hair and shining emerald eyes. The same eyes were displayed on a small girl who had straight raven hair. The two romped about, clearly father and daughter. Also, it appeared that hyperactivity ran in the family.

---

Boomer gently pushed the door open, almost expecting a bomb on the other side. Instead of an explosive, he found a sleepy McDonald's with the only other human life being the man who worked the counter.

"Can I help you?" The man's tired voice startled Boomer out of his thoughts.

"Oh, ah, yes. My b-brother wanted me to come here, so... I don't suppose you have any clue why?"

"Oh, you must be Boomer."

"You know my name?" Boomer hovered the short distance to the counter.

"Yes. Your brother is Butch, right?"

"One of them. But yeah."

"Oh yeah! You guys are the Rowdyruff Boys, right? Yeah. The other one... Brock, right?"

"Brick." Boomer corrected impatiently. What did this man know about Butch?

"Yeah, Brick. Anyway, Butch left this for you." The man slipped a note to Boomer. "I didn't read it, so don't worry. He came in and asked me to be on the look out for you."

"Thank you." Boomer rasped. He suddenly realized he hadn't eaten or had anything to drink since the party. "Can I, umm.. get a Coke?"

"Sure."

"And after I read this I'll get something to eat, so... can I just pay then?"

"You don't have to pay. That Butch kid gave some money on a tab for your meal." Boomer raised his eyebrows in amazement. For a guy who had an attention span of a goldfish, he sure did think things through.

"Oh, thanks." Boomer examined the envelope that held the note, "The Boomstah" scribbled in Butch's handwriting on the front. He gave a sad smile in remembrance of Butch's nickname for him. A tall paper cup with lid and straw in place jerked him out of his thoughts. He gave a thoughtful nod and sat down at one of the lonely tables. He opened the envelope and was surprised to find a long note tucked in. He gave a hard suck on the straw and unfolded.

---

Buttercup paused the little movie and held her hand against the virtual picture of the man's cheek. He looked so much like Butch, but the nuances transformed him into a twenty-six year old. Ten years from now. The tears she had let flow at the hospital gained new life and pulled at her eyelids.

_If only he knew this future, he'd want to live._

She had to give her mind some ease. It was this moment in time she realized she had never checked out the futures of her two sisters and her two male teammates. The perfect opening for some distraction. She looked up Bubbles, and sure enough, she and Boomer were married with a girl, the same as her and Butch. As were Brick and Blossom, but in place of a daughter, they had a son. She gave a sad, sweet smile as she wrote down on a small notepad the names said lovingly by their parents.

_Brick and Blossom - Buck_

_Boomer and Bubbles - Bell_

_Butch and me - Batani_

She had seen evidence of the spellings and said the names under her breath every night. She looked at the note, half of her mind dreaming, the other half screaming at her for being soft. Somehow, the internal warring comforted her. When the light from the screen went dark, she looked up to the screen. It showed a different version of the future now. One she wished she had turned the machine off for.

---

_Boomer! You got the note! Sweet. I thought you'd need Brick to help you figure out this one. Just kiddin buddy. Anyway, you're probably wondering..._

---

Buttercup stared in horror as she looked on older, disheveled versions of herself, Boomer, Bubbles, Brick, and Blossom. Buck and Bell were standing behind their respective parents. They were bored and goofing off with each other. Where was Butch? Unless...

Her fears were confirmed when a slightly deeper and close to sobbing voice came out of the older Brick's mouth.

"Today marks ten years since -"

The older Bubbles burst out crying. After her husband, the older Boomer, calmed her down, Brick resumed.

"Since Butch was murdered."

Buttercup shot back in the chair she was in. _Murdered?! But he killed himself!_

"Another one taken by depression," The older Blossom said quietly. _I get it... the depression murdered him. Yup, Brick's still a smart butt. _

She rolled her eyes, then jerked them back onto the screen when she heard her older self burst out crying. The woman fell on her knees, her raven hair covering her face. Apparently, even after a decade, the wound was still raw. Buttercup's eyes depressed at the sight. The two kids stared strangely at their aunt, and the adults huddled around her. It was then Buttercup realized where this scene was taking place: in a graveyard. She shivered and shook with fear and disturbance. Her trembling hand hit the power button and she was left alone in the dark.

---

Butch seemed to come alive and speak the words of the note to him. Boomer seemed to suddenly be in the air, his green color-coded brother floating in front of him with a worried look on his face and the city of Townsville below him. His hair was perfect, the spikes sharpened to a point. His eyes sparkled, his favorite outfit clean and pristine.

"I'm so sorry for everything, dude. But I had to do it." Boomer opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. "I know ya gunna say I didn't have to, but if you saw it the way I did, you'd agree." Boomer's brows depressed his eyes and he sucked his lips in. "You don't know what it feels like to feel... nothing, really. It felt like I wasn't even there. I just wanted to get out of it. I know I was a burden on everyone else." Boomer strained his throat to protest, but it felt as if someone cut out his voice box.

"I know you're thinking I wasn't, but I know how it really was. I'm sick of people lying to me to save my feelings." Butch's expression went from remorseful to angry, and he growled as he looked down and away from Boomer. The blonde begged his throat to emit some kind of sound, but it was no use.

"To tell you the truth, Boomer... I just couldn't... take it anymore," Butch looked back up to Boomer, his face returning to that of one holding in a wave of tears. "You know me, I hate being weak. We all had plans, but at least you guys have some purpose. I didn't even have a purpose's crap." Boomer was getting angry now. Who put all these lies into his head? And why couldn't he fight back?

"You and Brick make way better superheros than me. Plus, I'm pretty sure Mom doesn't want anything to do with me. I treated her so wrong for too long... I couldn't blame her." Boomer's anger faded as he heard the words. _Mom?_

---

Buttercup sat sobbing in the dark, wishing this would all end. She admitted she wasn't as smart as Blossom when it came to these things, but it didn't take a genius to figure it out. If in ten years they held a memorial for Butch, then in the present there was no way he'd survive.

---

The man working the counter viciously shook Boomer. He succumbed to reality and found himself lying on the floor.

"Are you okay?" The man asked frantically.

"Yeah, just kinda passed out there, I guess."

"You guess? Boomer forced a chuckle and with the man's help got back on his feet.


End file.
